


shine the sheaves

by sannlykke



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Leaf Peeping, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 17:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12281127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sannlykke/pseuds/sannlykke
Summary: It's not like he especiallywantedto come, or anything, but Akashi could be extremely persuasive when it comes to meeting up with their old friends.Autumn comes and Rakuzan goes leaf-peeping together.





	shine the sheaves

**Author's Note:**

> \- this is set...Very post-canon, like in their mid-20s  
> \- things to watch out for: blink-and-you'll-miss-it mibunebu, trans mibuchi  
> \- anyway seasons are changing and i just wanted to write fluff o)-<  
> \- title from longfellow's 'autumn'

“Do you have the thermos?”

“It’s in the cooler,” Mayuzumi says, slamming the trunk door. The weather isn’t so cold yet that he needs to stamp around the car for a bit before warming up, but he could already see the slightest trace of white breath in the air as he speaks all the same. Autumn is late this year, and so are they, now that he can see figures waving at them in the distance. “Ugh, they’re already here.”

“Reo wanted to set up the mats first,” Akashi answers, unperturbed. Almost as if the next thing that comes out of his mouth would be _we’re not late, they’re simply early_ , or some such bullshit. But he’s in a good mood, much better than last night upon coming home from work, and Mayuzumi isn’t particularly pressed with messing with that right now.

He supposes it’s nostalgia working its merry way into the atmosphere, though Mayuzumi himself has never believed in that. Even after all these years the countryside of Kyoto has remained relatively unchanged from the last time he visited, the faint, leaf-filled path between the secluded parking lot and the rest of his ex-teammates seemingly light-years away from the crowds currently occupying the entirety of Arashiyama all the way down to the bridge. He pulls at the scarf around his neck, shifting the weight of the cooler in his arms.

It's not like he especially  _wanted_ to come, or anything, but Akashi could be extremely persuasive when it comes to meeting up with their old friends.

Akashi sneezes.

“Don’t do that.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t sneeze on me.”

Mibuchi is already running towards them with a box of tissues at the ready—typical—and Mayuzumi takes the chance to step aside and dump the cooler on the mats. Akashi had insisted, in his usual fashion, of bringing along a little something, even though he knows damn well Mibuchi would be the one doing all the food prep.

“Let me guess,” Nebuya says as he comes up to Mayuzumi, opening the cooler without so much as a hello. “Limited edition beer? 500-year-old sake?”

“ _Ei-chan_ , where are your manners?”

“Not like he’s gonna say hi anyway.”

“That’s one thing you’re right about,” Mayuzumi mutters, though with less animosity than a familiar annoyance. Mibuchi would bemoan it every year, but they’re all simply going through the motions of bickering as matter of fact by now. It’s not a bad feeling; Mayuzumi helps unload the tiny, delicately-packaged boxes of _wagashi_ they had picked up from one of those high-end confectioners hidden in a tiny Kyoto alleyway that he had been barred from entering. Akashi had deigned to give him a peck on the cheek in the car afterwards, but still.

Nearby, Hayama is valiantly battling it out with an old hammock someone had left hanging there; the hammock seems to be winning. Mayuzumi hears Akashi sigh audibly behind him. “You should go help him, Mayuzumi-san.”

“Fuck no.”

“That’s unseemly,” Mibuchi sniffs. “You would think people who come here would actually take their trash away.”

There are a few couples milling around, quietly conversing, and fewer families than they would see down the mountain. Having to dump someone else’s garbage aside, perhaps they’re lucky that this spot hasn’t been broadcasted to the world yet (though Mayuzumi has wondered on more than one occasion if Akashi has been hiding from them all some family-owned mountaintop villa where organizing parties would be easier.)

“Tug it sideways.”

“I’m trying!”

Finally they manage to free the hammock, sending a flurry of leaves new and old tumbling into a neat pile on the ground. Mayuzumi’s never been overfond of that earthy, musty smell, but even as he turns back to the others he could feel a smile tug at his lips at the sound of Hayama diving headfirst into the pile.

The crunch of leaves underfoot and crisp autumn air in his lungs, even for someone who’s more or less made a permanent burrow in front of his laptop screen at home, feels really, really good.

“You could join him,” Akashi suggests, taking a sip of tea from his thermos. _He_  wouldn't be bothered to do something as undignified as jumping into a pile of leaves. Mayuzumi could see Mibuchi already walking towards Hayama, ready to scold. Nebuya follows closely behind, shaking his head, a hand on her shoulder. _Something something letting off steam from work_ —Mayuzumi could already hear him say it in that tone he uses, gruff but well-meaning, and then Mibuchi’s frown would be replaced with a smile, and soon enough all three of them would be ridiculously covered in all matter of vegetation.

“Nah,” Mayuzumi replies, popping a piece of mochi into his mouth. Some things don’t change, and hey, maybe it’s not all so bad. “I’m good.”

Above them, a particularly strong breeze blows through the trees, scattering red and gold. A single, scarlet leaf flutters downwards, nestling itself in Akashi’s hair. Mayuzumi reaches out to brush it aside, but Akashi intercepts his arm halfway. “Wait.”

Mayuzumi stares at him, for a second letting his mind stupidly go on about shoujo moments and soap opera scenes. “What, you like it being th—”

Too late does he notice the upwards sweep of Akashi's other arm, which in the next moment assaults Mayuzumi’s face with a fistful of leaves.

“—I’m gonna fucking— _Akashi!!_ ”

Mayuzumi's indignant yells, mingling with Akashi's soft laughter as he makes his escape down the path, fade pleasantly into the quiet trembling of red-and-gold leaves.


End file.
